


In Over Her Head

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Coming of Age, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-10-21 05:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10678584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: College is a simple feat for Lute. That is, until her perfected daily schedule and trained composure get compromised-- by a girl and a spider no less.





	1. Composure

To be fair, Lute probably could’ve given Artur some kind of warning as to what waited in their dorm. A note, or a text, but she’d been in a rush, it was so last second. And it might be the very spawn-- and perhaps one of the biggest --of his worse fear, but he shouldn’t react too badly. At least, she’d thought so, and was about 99.99% certain. But then her phone buzzes in her pocket too many times too quickly and she sighs, knowing what to expect.

**[12:05 P.M.] Artur: lUTE WHAT THE HELL**

**[12:05 P.M.] Artur: LUTE WHAT IS THIS**

**[12:05 P.M. Image Sent ✓]**

The image is blurry, very clearly taken in a panic through only a crack of their door and sent without revision. But Lute can see it, the tank and form of dark fur inside of it. She sighs.

**[12:06 P.M.] You: That would be Bael, the Occultism class pet tarantula.**

**[12:06 P.M.] You: He is a goliath birdeater. Their fur causes skin irritation and its bite causes little more effect than a wasp sting. Just don’t touch him and you’ll be fine.**

Again, quick, hurried responses. She has no doubts Artur has sealed the door shut, staring at his screen and is awaiting her response. Such a child, sometimes. But she understood the psychology behind phobias, and that such a reaction was consistent with the usual symptoms, of which can’t be helped without therapy (and she'd tried once before to make him go, but he never did. Likely too embarrassed to have to go to counselling for a fear of _bugs_ ). She’ll let him by, for now.

**[12:06 P.M.] Artur: its**

**[12:06 P.M.] Artur: its a class pet** **  
**

**[12:06 P.M.] Artur: im pretty thats illegal somehow**

**[12:06 P.M.] Artur: and if it eats birds it sure as hell will have no problem eating me** **  
**

**[12:06 P.M.] You: Actually, it is very rare for it to eat birds. It’s diet consists mainly of earthworms and toads.**

**[12:06 P.M.] Artur: ok but still?? ITS HUGE. it eats birds. it can eat /birds/. why is this in here**

**[12:06 P.M.] You: Our classroom is undergoing renovation, and they needed a volunteer to care for him in the meantime. Also, he is a particularly small specimen. Typically, they grow about 2x bigger than he currently is.**

**[12:06 P.M.] Artur: so you volunteered**

**[12:06 P.M.] Artur: fully aware that I hate spiders**

**[12:06 P.M.] You: You are correct.**

**[12:06 P.M.] Artur: unbelievable**

**[12:06 P.M.] You: I am quite extraordinary.**

**[12:06 P.M.] Artur: clearly**

**[12:06 P.M.] Artur: im not going in there**

**[12:06 P.M.] You: He’s in a tank. It’ll be fine.**

**[12:06 P.M.] Artur: nope**

**[12:06 P.M.] you: Artur.**

**[12:06 P.M.] Artur: N O P E**

**[12:06 P.M.] You: Then find a person to stay with. Bye.**

She ignores the further buzzing in her pocket, eyes and ears going back to the lecture. It wasn’t her fault if he couldn’t handle a harmless spider, nonetheless one sealed safely within a tank, with no possible way of escape or harming him.

* * *

Lute eats lunch without event, and takes a few moments to loathe about the autumn weather, about the fact she’ll probably have to wash her shoes due to the mud on the way back to her room. Lute was confident in all her abilities except physical. Though,  the walk is not as strenuous as it is when she’s pushing to keep pace with Artur. Long legs, long stride. Very hard to keep up with. It'd always been that way, with how quickly that boy grew throughout their childhood. And it’s a little too chilly for her preference, but she’d planned for this, a thinly knit cardigan draping over her.

She pulls it from her shoulders and her shoes off when in the confines of her room, preparing her second mental checklist for today. Feed Bael. Revise presentation. Finalize essay. These were her top priorities at hand, and she pulls a Tupperware container from her bag, live with the chirps of crickets (which Artur would murder her for if found. His fear extended to all insects, really). Not proper food for a tarantula of its size, but it will do for now. The tank sits against the wall by her computer, humoring the idea of it ‘keeping her company’. She can see why Artur must have been frightened, as a towel was placed over it, and he wouldn’t of known what was under it when he lifted it. The classroom was kept dim often, the professor having a bad light sensitivity. And Lute was uncertain if the brightness (their curtains were sheer, to let at least a little light in. Artur was cursed with seasonal depression, it was their compromise) would bother the thing. Pulling it back, she digs her fingers under the handle of the container lid.

And finds the spider to be gone.

Blinking a few times, the situation processes in her mind slowly. And when she regains her senses, the container is dropped aside, Lute, quick in her path, turns the shared room practically upside down. There wasn’t much in there, Artur keeping his side clean and sort of barren while Lute’s was a maze of stacked books and miscellaneous things but exceptionally tidy. There couldn’t be much place for the damned thing to hide, especially when it was so large, unlike its domestic cousins. And yet, it alludes her, despite her keen observation and investigation of every gap and corner within the small space.

And then she hears it, the telltale sound like that of ripping velcro and she turns just quickly enough to see the end of a leg slip out of sight under the door to the hallway. With much less regard to safety than should be had, she bolts to the door and attempts to tear it open. _Locked_. It was a habit by now to lock it behind her when she returns, Artur having a key of his own and done with the purpose of keeping his friends out, who liked to make themselves right at home. And people have entered the wrong room enough times for it to become annoying. Fumbling with the knob, she’s outside, looking around wildly. The tiled floor is cold on her feet, but no spider. And the walls...no spider. One would think the thing vanished into thin air.

And then, Lute looks to the ceiling just in time to see it fall from its perch on top of a doorway several rooms down, and wriggle its way under the chipped wood.

Slap of bare feet announcing her speed-walking down the hall, she pushes the door open without restraint, leaning forward to grab the arachnid with a quiet “aha!”. It tries to pry free of her grasp, admittedly larger than Lute’s own tiny hand, but to no avail. With a sigh of relief, Lute turns to return it to its glass prison, but is stopped when she looks up to meet the shocked gaze of what must be this room’s tenant.

Tall ( _very tall_ , at least six feet? She towers over Lute, who is a measly 4’10), with jarring bright green hair in a tight braid. She must have been getting dressed, hands gripping a white turtleneck, frozen, hovering just below her bra.

Ah, this must be strange to witness. Lute could care less about social standards of behavior, but can’t blame the girl for being stunned-- with a stranger bursting into her room, barefoot and out of breath with an impressively giant tarantula in her grip, catching her in a state of undress.

“I can explain.”

The girl lets her shirt drop to cover the rest of her torso, and her eyebrows furrow. “Uh…”

“I apologize for the intrusion, my--” _Er… “ ..._ pet tarantula escaped his cage, and wandered into your room.”

“Oh, um, okay, it’s fine-?”  Before she can continue, Lute suddenly yelps in pain, and she gasps. Surprised, Lute looks down to find small, long fangs piercing into the skin between her pointer finger and thumb. Little red orbs of blood grow around the intrusion, and she nearly drops it onto the ground. “Are you okay?!”

“Relatively.” Lute says, composed, honestly shocked herself to find she didn’t squeeze Bael dead in her flinch. It burns, but no more than a splinter would. Or something like that. “Their bites aren’t always venomous, and even so their venom is mostly harmless, like that of a wasp sting.”

“Um, wasp stings aren't something small...” The other comments, walking closer. The tarantula squirms, and she recoils in reaction. “Do you like, need to go to the hospital or…”

“Health services will be fine, I don’t have first aid supplies in my room, a poor oversight.” Lute turns once again, then stops...again. With a barely concealed faux cough, Lute turns again. “...I don’t know where it is.”

“Oh, I can show you the way, I guess?”

“That is my best option, yes.” Lute nods, not particularly enjoying having to get help but acknowledging the necessity. “...But first, I should return this.”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

Lute finally leaves, making the short walk to her door and trying to ignore the resounding pangs of pain in her hand. When she’s certain the lid clasps are as tight as they can be, and watches Bael fruitlessly attempt to climb up the glass wall, she returns to find Vanessa by her door’s side. She looks at a watch, much to Lute’s slight amusement, considering her phone is in her other hand. A messenger bag stuffed so much it doesn’t zip completely closed rests against her.

“Were you about to leave?”

“Yes, actually.” She smiles. “But it’s okay, I’ve got time. And this is…” They both look to Lute’s hand, blood dripping slowly in a thin stream down her wrist. She cringes. “...A little more urgent.”

They begin to walk, bordering on jogging really. Lute clutches the wound with her uninjured hand to hopefully clot it, or at least keep it from dripping further down her arm.

“I’m Vanessa, by the way.”

“Lute.” She replies, and would look up to see the bewildered look on Vanessa’s face, were it not for the fact that looking up that far makes the back of her head practically touch her shoulders.

“Like...the instrument?”

“Correct.”

“...So, what are you majoring in?”

“Computer science, actuarial science...mathematics.” Lute rather dislikes small talk, but will answer when she’s questioned. And supposes it’s only courtesy, given Vanessa was helping her-- Lute’s own fault, she'd admit. “And you?”

Vanessa scratches her head nervously. “That’s...a lot. I’m in nursing, actually. But I’m thinking of changing it.”

“It was hard to choose. Had I the money, I would look into much more. Perhaps in the future.” Lute looks to her, suddenly interested. “Why change it?”

“Uh, it's complicated.”

“I suppose.” Vanessa smiles as they turn a corner. Lute decides not to pry, unable to really focus on such a mundane topic. Or maybe that’s the sudden dizziness speaking. Her vision swims, just a little. She never did have good pain tolerance.

“Uh, please don’t pass out on me.”

“Hm?”

“You’re pale, and you look out of breath…”

“You’re hard to keep up with.” Lute says. Long legs, long stride… “You’re tall.”

“Sorry! I get that a lot.” Vanessa smiles and gives a small laugh, one average in every sense. “But are you sure health services is enough? Your hand is looking really bad.”

Lute uncovers it, red smeared and dried in contrast to her skin, and the skin around the opening was turning swollen and bloated. It hurts, badly, a dull ache spreading through her fingers. But bearable.

“We’ll see. In any case, I won’t die.”

“Well, I certainly hope so!”

The walk is uneventful, Lute indifferently sharing tidbits of her college experience, much to Vanessa’s apparent enjoyment. She occasionally gives a glance at her phone screen, but Lute pays it no mind. Impatience, she guesses, Vanessa likely has better things to do than lead her around. And she’s rather used to it.

Lute hears her mutter “shit!” before she starts to drift from Lute’s side, sparing her a glance as she goes.

“Here we are. Hope your hand is alright! See you around.” When they reach the doors of their destination, they part ways and Vanessa waves her off, seeming in a rush. Lute watches her go before entering, wondering what caused such a reaction. But can’t think much on it, the pain in her hand making itself more apparent as she walks in.


	2. Good Bad Coincidence

“I told you that thing would try to kill you. Or me.”

Lute rolls her eyes, thumb fiddling with the bandaging. “Aren’t you glad it got me first, then?”

“ _No._ ” Artur sighs. “You’re just lucky it was a ‘dry bite’, or whatever you called it.”

The night had turned more eventful than she intended. The school’s staff did manage to stop the bleeding around her hand, but they didn’t exactly have the resources to detect whether she had venom in her system or not. And with her growing increasingly pale and woozy, they felt it was right to usher her off to a hospital. An hour or two in urgent care later, Lute returns knowing that she’s venom-free, and facing only skin irritation and light-headedness from blood loss and a long walk at fault. And uncaring to her responsibilities for the day and with Artur egging her on, she plopped into her bed for much needed sleep.

“I told you he was relatively harmless. He’s used to humans and has been handled by humans many times.” Lute looks to her hand, lips pursing. “Usually with very thick gloves on.”

Artur looks like he’s about to argue, but stops, focusing their walk on the small coffee shop practically just next to the campus. Smart placement, Lute thinks, given how much students like her friend beside her need it to survive. Lute was accustomed to his schedule, where Artur found his only free time in the afternoon and at night on most days, between both morning and evening classes. And each afternoon, he would get a much needed fill of caffeine to keep him alive throughout the day. Lute once listed to him the harmful effects of doing that on a daily basis, but eventually stopped trying when she realized he was too far gone. Lute had never had time to tag along, but the incident yetsterday had, unfortunately, done a number on her dominate hand. And it was because of this that she was, at least for the day (and only because Artur insisted) being absent from class.

But fate seemed to enjoy throwing her off track, as they approach the counter and Lute finds herself startled to see a familiar head of lime colored hair. She doesn’t notice them, busy with the current customer’s seemingly complex order. Before she can think on it further, the line moves forward,  Artur does with it, and Vanessa gives him a smile, before her gaze falls lower.

“Lute?” She asks, eyes wide.

“...That is me.”

Artur passes a confused glance between the both of him, but is cut off by an ‘ahem’ behind them, and Vanessa’s (clearly trained) chipper demeanor returns on a dime. “Right, what can I get you?”

Lute doesn’t hear Artur’s order, conversation only coming into focus at “and you?”

“Same as him.” Lute answers, fists clenching to keep the rest of her from tensing. Lute likes plans, and she didn’t have time to plan for this, not when she was adjusting to _other_ unplanned things. She didn't normally order anything. She didn't memorize the menu. She had no time to plan an order...

“You’re sure? Black coffee is pretty bitter.”

Lute swallows. “Yes, that’s fine.”

She walks off to save them a table, which is totally because the place was unusually busy, and not because she wants to escape or anything.  Artur gives Vanessa a sympathetic smile, which is returned with a nod. “Put lots of sugar in it.”

Taking a seat across from Lute in a booth, Artur shoots her an incredulous look. “You know each other?”

“By chance, yes.”

Artur looks to the counter to see Vanessa thinly veiling irritation at the customer that was behind him, who must’ve been speaking their order for at least twenty seconds now. “Well, tell me!”

She recounts the entire encounter to him, and what she'd been too tired to explain last night before passing out.

Before Artur can form any response , two drinks and wrapped sandwiches are placed between them, with a relieved sigh.

“May I?”

“Of course.” Artur grins, pulling his food to his side. Craning her neck up, Lute spots Vanessa just before she sits rather ungracefully next to him (and for a moment, Lute is a little offended. But that’s how it’s always been, Artur being the more outwardly social of the two, people found his presence much more comfortable).

“Hell isn’t as hot as I thought it’d be.” Vanessa groans, head resting in her hands and smile forgotten. “And it tastes like ass and leaves you covered in sprinkles.”

“I wanted to try that new drink, but…” Her hands fall back to the table, and Artur sees her tanned skin stained many shades of pastel pink and purple. “I take it not ordering it was a mercy?”

“I’ve never made so many frappuccinos in my life.” Vanessa mumbles, but gives a cheerful- albeit weary -look towards Lute. “Nice to see you again. How’s your hand?”

“Healing...But itchy.” In fact, it was taking most of Lute’s willpower not to scratch it. And that every inch of it was covered in bandages, for that exact purpose. “I wasn’t aware you knew Artur.”

“Yep!" Artur says, speaking through a mouth full of bread and roasted tomato. He waits a moment to swallow it before continuing. “I always come here right as her shift ends, we eat together and mope about being tired…Oh, and we have a few classes together.”

"You're also the only one who _always_ orders the same exact thing."

“I’m surprised you haven’t told her any stories of me.” Lute’s lips turn into a rare jovial smirk.

“I haven’t because you _specifically_ told me to stop doing that.” Artur retorts, and offers an answer to Vanessa’s lost expression. “This is that friend I mention all the time, we grew up together. We're roommates now, kinda.”

“Oooh…Oh, god, that makes the spider situation even worse.”

“Please don’t mention it, I'll lose my appetite.”

Reminded that there _was_ food in front of them, Lute (with more timidness than she should allow herself) takes the steaming foam cup and puts it to her lips, the two pairs of eyes on her going unnoticed. She was never a fan of coffee, and knew very little about it, but...Ah, it was kind of sweet, though it didn’t cover the gross coffee taste completely.

“Hm, you said this was bitter.”

“It isn’t?”

“Not at all. I suppose some have sturdier taste buds than others.”

She takes another sip, and Artur barely conceals a chuckle at his friend’s behavior, him and Vanessa sharing a knowing look. "I guess you do."

“I’m already so exhausted…” A few thick books make their way onto the table, where there was room. Lute assumes Vanessa couldn’t fit them in her bag. “I’m praying I don’t fall asleep.”

Artur nudges his cup towards her, which Vanessa pushes back.

“Caffeine does nothing for me, remember? But thanks.”

“Well, I’ll wake you up if need be.”

“Don’t plan on it, that’s in 3 hours.”

Lute eats quietly as they chatter, picking up tidbits of conversation here and there, eyes looking out the large window beside them at rustling trees and speeding cars.

They only have so long before Artur stands up, gathering the remnants of their lunch to bring to the trash. “Well, I’ve gotta go or I’ll be late, like last time.”

Lute vaguely recalls Artur’s tendency to get sleepy after eating, impromptu naps being something she never did manage to help him curve. Suddenly, the coffee makes much more sense. He had more good habits than bad, at least.

All three of them standing, Lute double checks her own backpack as Vanessa says something of a goodbye. About to give a similar one to Artur, she looks at the table, and stares.

“She left her books.”

“She did?” Artur groans. “She’s always rushing. I’ll just get them to her later. Sucks though, they’re heavy.”

“I’ll do it, then.” Lute nonchalantly scoops them up, ignoring the soreness in her hand and the tug of her arm muscles just holding them up. “Go, or you’ll be late.”

“You sure? Those are pretty-”

“She can consider them repayment for helping me, I suppose.”

“It doesn’t have to be repayment, you know.” He mumbles as she leaves. Knowing better than to argue with her, Artur shakes his head and leaves as well.

(But that’s just how Lute is, Artur thinks as he’s leaving. She only thought of things in terms of productivity. Couldn’t she lighten up a bit?)


	3. Boredom

Hours, even days earlier than the deadline, Lute submits the last essay that was left unfinished thanks to that...incident. It’s difficult typing when the bandages around her hand constrict her hand’s movement so much, but no obstacle for someone as productive as her. Lute pushes her chair away from the desk, reminded quickly of the silence in the room. It wasn’t often Artur was out at this time, so late in the day. But she wasn’t concerned, he was an adult-- an adult that wasn’t so good at being one, but one nonetheless. And she didn’t have to know every detail of his whereabouts, anyone could understand that much.

But it was so strange, being without even the sound of his breathing or muffled music from his headphones. And then came the issue she faced too much: her work was done. Lute liked work, something to focus on, to get lost in. When she was working, it was so easy to lose track of time, to listen to the same playlist seven times and leave the remains of her tea she always had to dry and stick to the bottom of her mug. When she had no work, she was always left a little lost.

Normally, she would simply work towards a hobby, like anyone would. But she’d read every book stacked by her bed already, already memorized. And there was little much else she was interested in that she had current access to. And the room was so dead silent. Lute crosses her arms on the desk, head resting on them and watching Bael. The tarantula, she swore, seemed in the same predicament. 'W _hat a silly thought,',_ she thinks, _'a spider had no awareness of such a thing'._ She wouldn’t deny the thing was intelligent, having broken out once within the past few days again already and nearly gave Artur a heart failure when it nested in his bed. It was settled, then, that the lid would be taped down and food given through the sliding opening at the top. Anything to keep him from complaining, she supposed.

A few minutes pass, and suddenly restless, Lute rises from her seat. The room is as pristine as ever, and dimly lit, as Lute preferred it, even though it was only five-thirty P.M. Her limbs ache to do something, and for anything to keep her occupied. She can only take observing their strange pet for so long, already knowing all of its behavior.

She looks to her bed, neatly kept. But Lute had a very specific sleep schedule, never finding herself tired until the sun is just about to set and almost impossible to go to bed any earlier.

It was so quiet. She knows well though that to play something would strike her nerves in a state like this, and likely annoy the neighboring students, this late in the day. The building was strange in that it reminded Lute of a motel, or some apartment complexes, with each door leading outside to an open floor. What would one call that...A deck? The walls were thin, as far as Lute was concerned, though she never felt like going through the trouble of making noise complaints. They happened so rarely anyways.

...It was so quiet. And Lute feels a strange itching, not the kind like the skin on her injured hand, but with wanting to do something and yet nothing at the time. Like not even knowing what the thing she wanted to do was.

It’s a hasty decision, one she normally wouldn’t make-- Lute much preferred the indoors. Not anti-social by any means, but preferring the confines of a small, safe place one could be in total control of. But she thinks for once, taking Artur’s example might be beneficial. He always took a walk when he was stressed, and Lute doubted it would work on herself, but at least this way she was doing something. And perhaps she would find something interesting on the way.

Stepping outside, the first thing she notices it the chilly air. She closed the door behind her and was walking past blue paneling and old brick down the stairs off the second floor.The housing was less than ideal, farther from the buildings she frequented than she would’ve liked. But also the more frugal option. And to look out the window straight into forest _was_ kind of nice, the mild sense of seclusion. She’s immediately met with the sound of her shoes on the asphalt below, and the sound of crickets, and she’s actually relieved. Just because she preferred things be quiet didn't mean she had to like total silence, and that room was becoming suffocating.

(She wonders, for a moment, if it’s possible to have a sensory overload from lack of senses at all. Or would that be sensory deprivation?)

With no real destination in mind, Lute starts to walk, letting her mind focus on her surroundings rather than her own thoughts.

* * *

Vanessa’s dorm was, frankly, a mess. Not dirty- she wasn’t the kind to let dishes pile up or have laundry not put away. Just disorganized, at least for now. She sat against the wall on her bed, laptop warm against her thighs and a disarray of papers, textbooks, pencils and the like around her. If you asked what Vanessa hated the most, she would have a lot of answers. Like complicated coffee orders, ants, and almost no pants options long enough for people her size. But at the moment, it was definitely statistics. Easily the most hated of them all, as her class seemed hell-bent on proving. It was amazing, that her professor could give hours of information and not a single bit of it sticks in her mind.

She should take a break, she thinks. But she’s afraid if she stops she won’t have the willpower to start back up again. And it would be a pain to move everything she’s so carefully laid out around her.

Minutes pass of her looking at but not really processing her coursework, before the door to her room opens. Not as startled as she likely should be, she looks up to Syrene, smiling as she closes it behind her.

“You could knock.” Vanessa smiles as well, not really angry.

“You’re always studying right now.”

“You never know."

“I’m your sister, I always know.”

With a small sigh, Vanessa pushes her computer aside, Syrene sitting beside her, denting the mattress and making some papers slide her way.

“I have to make sure you’re not overworking yourself.”

“I can’t really help that…”

“Maybe not. But you still need to take care of yourself.”

“I am!” Vanessa protests. It was just like Syrene to check up on her too often, though she didn’t mind it. It was only for a few minutes, but a nice distraction.  _‘Have you eaten today?’ ‘When did you go to bed last night?’_ Sometimes, she was so strikingly similar to mother that Vanessa would have to convince herself she wasn’t just imagining things.

“But you’re always so tired.”

“I get enough sleep, I promise. But...school _and_ work is pretty tiring, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

“I don’t get how you always have this much energy…”

Syrene chuckles. “I think it’s because I don’t have to deal with customers.”

“Lucky you. We lowly students are just too exhausted to cause trouble like that.”

“I suppose that’s the case. Though, you’d be surprised at all the stories I have.”

Syrene had been working here two years before Vanessa herself came to the school, so she didn’t doubt it. “Later. I’d love to hear them, but unfortunately, math exists.”

Humming, Syrene picks up a random paper and looks over it, letting out a low whistle. “Well, I think being bad with numbers runs in the family. Can’t help you there.”

Vanessa knew that already, but groans nonetheless, resisting the urge to flop over and take a nap, even if it meant resting on uncomfortable papers.

“Why not get someone to help you?”

“I don’t know anyone that could.” And while it would likely be beneficial, she refuses to pay for any tutoring. She was certain that if she simply stayed focused, kept at it, she’d get it. Sooner than later, hopefully, but eventually.

(Long after she’s dead, perhaps. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this.)

* * *

By the time Lute noticed the down turned leaves and humidity, the heaviness of the air, it’d already started to rain. Cursing herself for not preparing for this, Lute bolts from her spot in the direction of her housing. She doesn’t look too out of place, what few others were outside seemed taken by surprise as well, bags and jackets becoming makeshift coverings. The wind hadn’t picked up, thankfully, but it proved insignificant in the long run. As Lute approached her door, she was soaked to the bone, strands of hair sticking to her face and her clothes clinging to her body.

Nearly slipping on the way, she makes it to her door, the edge of the roof offering no protection from the falling drops. The knob, however, refuses to turn. Realization kicks in. Lute always locked the door behind her, purely on instinct. And this time was no different. Except this time, her key was behind it, not in her pocket. Lute stands for a few moments, stunned. The rain is still hitting her head, but is payed no mind. In disbelief, Lute’s hand pats her skirt’s pocket as if to confirm it was actually inside, and she feels the bulge of her phone.

She gets an idea. Not that she likes it.


	4. Belonging

( _“I gave her your number, by the way.”_

_Lute looks to him, mildly bewildered. “Why?”_

_"To tell her you were gonna stop by so you don’t walk in on her undressing again.” Artur grins when she scoffs. “And, you know, you two are more alike than you think.”_

_“She was dressing, not undressing.” Lute says, recalling the incident from a few days prior. “I don’t see why you would do that, though.”_

_“I don’t know. Talk. Make friends, Lute! Doesn’t it get uncomfortable, being locked away in here all the time?”_

_“I am not as extroverted as you. I’m rather comfortable how I am.”_

_“Well, still, a little socialize outside of me doesn’t hurt. Look, here’s hers-”)_

Reluctantly, Lute pulls it out, droplets hitting the screen and reflecting little rainbows in their surface. Embarrassing beyond words, having to ask for her help twice. But Lute feels she doesn’t have much choice, and so she bites back her pride.

**[6:49 P.M.] You: Hello Vanessa, it’s Lute. I hate to trouble you, but it appears I’m locked out of my dorm and it’s raining very hard. Please help.**

A minute or so after the text is sent, the door at the end of the ‘hall’ opens and out came Vanessa, ironically in the same pajamas Lute had seen her in returning the books. An umbrella above her head (red, with green marks meant to make it look like a strawberry. If she weren’t feeling like a pissed off wet cat, she might’ve thought it was cute), she darts to Lute’s side.

“Oh my god! I’m sorry I didn’t notice the text sooner, you’re soaked.”

“It’s fine.” Lute says. It isn’t, because she’s shivering hard enough she can hear her teeth chatter and she’s almost certain she’ll get a cold. “This was unexpected, I apologize for troubling you.”

“Don’t worry.” Vanessa insists, as they make the short walk to her room. It felt nice to not be constantly pelted on the head, but Lute was too bitter to notice. “It’s not like you control the weather.”

 _‘I don’t’_ , Lute thinks bitterly, ‘ _but I do control whether I lock myself out or not.’_

The inside was warm and it felt unbelievably nice when the air hits her. She pays mind to stay by the door, aware she would be dragging water all across the little space. Taking the hint, Vanessa steps away into her bathroom (her own bathroom, a privilege only this housing building and another had), returning with a fluffy towel tossed Lute’s way. “I’ll let you borrow some clothes, okay?”

“That’s...That’s not necessary.” Lute insists, already ashamed of how much she was in her debt.

“Don’t be like that. Neither of us wants my room getting soaked.” Lute tries to dry herself as much as she can, and wraps it around herself to try to keep her clothes from dripping onto the carpet. Vanessa hands her some article of clothing, and anxious to clear her head, she wastes no time hiding away in the bathroom to change.

Looking in the mirror, she can see how awful she looks. Paying her flattened hair no mind, her face is flushed from ( ~~embarrassment~~ ) the change of temperatures and despite being restless, she looks exhausted. Her blouse is the first to go, water stains leaving it a pale yellow in some spots. It’ll wash out, at least. Skirt next, and she doesn’t dare undress further. Leaving them in a soggy heap beside her, she takes to drying what of herself she can before investigating what Vanessa gave her. She assumes it to be a nightgown, light blue and silk with clouds across it, but upon buttoning it up realizes it’s just a shirt-- And her face flushes all over again, aware their height difference only made it seem gigantic as it hung off her shoulders. How was a human that tall?

When she exits, ruffling her hair relatively dry, she finds Vanessa seated again on her bed, surrounded by a plethora of stationary. “What should I do about the wet clothes?”

“Just leave them, you can bring them back later.” Nodding, Lute does that much. But stands there, unsure exactly of what she can and cannot do. “You can sit, by the way. No one uses the other bed.”

“You’re by yourself.” Lute asks, though it doesn’t sound so much like a question. She gingerly takes a seat on the edge of it, across from Vanessa’s, feeling more than out of place.

“Yep. Kind of a good thing, actually. Lots of peace and quiet.”

Vanessa pulls her laptop close to her, and fumbles through a bag of chips against her thigh. Feeling twitchy and odd, Lute lets her eyes wander. The room isn’t so scarce as her own, with posters of bands she didn’t know and art prints. She had star shaped lights around her bedposts, though the sheets under it were mismatched. Lute takes most interest, however, in the picture frames along a dresser just beside the unused bed. There’s a picture of Vanessa holding the reins of a horse, seemingly years younger, as a high school student?

Next to it is what she presumes is a family photo, and beside her, Lute recognizes a face. Their RA...Assuming their were sisters, it suddenly made a lot of sense. A tall, cheerful looking woman standing behind them appears to be her mother. Her incredible height made sense now as well. A slightly shorter man is next to her, looking tired and worn despite smiling. Her father? Maybe grandfather, even, he looks so aged.

“Lute?”

Her eyes dart back to Vanessa, who was looking at her. Normally Lute would keep eye contact, having trained herself to do so, but finds herself not feeling up to it exactly, staring at her lips instead.

“You can look around, I don’t mind.” She hears her giggle. “You’re awfully quiet, though.”

“I apologize.” Lute says. But deciding it too curt, she elaborates with a nervous cough. “You’ve helped me a lot recently. Thank you.”

“Hey, it’s no big deal. You aren’t inconveniencing me or anything.” A pause. “Well, the first time, a little. But at least you didn’t get locked out right before my shift started.”

“Ah, that’s why were you in such a rush.”

“Oh...I was trying not to make that obvious. I can’t really afford getting fired for being late, but that was an emergency, kind of. My manager understood.”

“That’s good.” Unusually eager to keep a conversation going, if not for a distraction more than anything else, Lute looks back to those pictures. “You like horses?”

“You noticed?” She replies cheerfully. “I do. I went horseback riding a lot in highschool, and I have my own back home. Her name’s Titania. I miss her an awful lot, my actual house is a whole town over, though.”

It’s easy to get absorbed listening to her, Lute finds.

“But luckily, there’s a good place for it not too far from here. A bit of a trip, but worth it. My sister takes me there when we have the time.”

“Syrene?”

“Huh, not many people realize we’re sisters.”

“You look alike.” Lute is surprised she didn’t notice sooner. But then again, he hadn't known Vanessa before.

“You just missed her, actually.”

There’s a stretch of silence again, save for the clicking of Vanessa’s keyboard. Oddly, it’s different than the silence in Lute’s dorm, felt less like she _needed_ something to do. But there was little difference in the environment besides Vanessa’s presence, so why was that?

“How did you lock yourself out, by the way?”

“I always lock the door behind me when I leave,” Lute explains. “Because if I don’t, people welcome themselves in.”

“People?”

“Artur’s friends.”

”Oh...?”

“Typically, he would be around to open the door for me. However…” Lute is reminded that when she’d texted Vanessa, desperate for shelter, she had seen and ignored a notification from him. Opening it, her suspicion is confirmed, sent before Lute had even returned.

**[5:02 P.M.] Artur: im out with the others dont worry, the doors unlocked btw**

She can’t really explain why it upsets her. Maybe because she’s protective. That was certainly it. Totally it. Probably. Most likely.

“He's currently out with them. And my key is inside the room.”

“Oh...Any idea when he’ll be back?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“You can stay the night, if you need to.” Lute looks back to her, shocked. “What’s with that look? The bed you’re sitting on isn’t anyone’s, feel free.”

Lute should feel hesitant at this, she had never slept over at another's house before. Even Artur had lived with her most of his life. But she can’t, because the routinely tiredness is kicking in and Vanessa’s room is so comfortable and time passes so slowly that she’s sure she can’t stay awake, or at least alert, for much longer.

“Alright, I need to take a shower. I’m not getting anywhere with this.”

“What is it?”

“Statistics. Math. Everything I dislike about math. Which is all of it.”

Immediately, she catches Lute’s attention yet again.

“...I can help you, if you’d like.”

Mid-way through a stretch, Vanessa freezes. “Wait, really?”

“Did you forget? I’m majoring in mathematics.” Lute says, and feeling a little like her normal self, smirks proudly. “And good at it.”

“I appreciate it, but I’m sure you’re pretty busy yourself...”

“Not at all. I am at the peak of productivity, and have more free time than I would like. I can show you now how much I know, if you’d like.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary!...But if you really want to help, I’ll gladly take it.”

“Consider it done.”

Vanessa smiles wide. For some reason, Lute feels a part of her grow warmer, in the strangest, most curious, most abstract sense. She was finally completely dry, so now the room's heating could get to her, she supposes.

* * *

 

She leaves to take a shower, and upon returning, finds Lute asleep across the bed. Vanessa can’t help but have to muffle her own laughter, only now realizing how big everything looked in comparison. But it was a cute sight, with her normally tidy hair all messed and still damp on top of her unwrapped towel, and her shirt baggy enough to be a dress, and her looking so abnormally peaceful. She was odd, odd and endearing enough that Vanessa think’s she truly doesn’t mind being dragged into so many messes.


	5. Nerves

The arrangement works out perfectly, Lute finds. The weekdays go as normal, but each weekend Lute does away with the strange lost feeling and instead nests herself in Vanessa’s room. She has something to keep her busy as she’d like, and Vanessa was slowly but surely struggling less and less in that class. She didn’t pick it up as quickly as Lute had hoped, having had a month already pass from when they first started. Thankfully, she had an abundance of patience. And Vanessa wasn’t someone she could really get mad at.

And it’s not like her company was unpleasant. In fact, Lute had never been one for trivial small talk, but found herself enjoying, not to mention indulging in it, here. It was frustrating, sure, when they had to take a break from numbers and promptly forget what they spent the last half hour learning. But can’t bring herself to complain when Vanessa places cups of tea or some knock off dollar store snacks between them, not used to such...cozy procrastination.

Like she’d learned on that rainy day back then, Vanessa was surprisingly fascinating to listen to. She would hop from one topic to another like Lute herself often did, and make the most mundane stories somewhat bearable. She talked about high school and her weird family and her Titiana. Lute took most interest in that, having never even seen a horse in person before.

And the time right now was much like that rainy day. Water droplets are hitting the window in little resounding clicks and there’s a the low rumble of an industrial fan somewhere. Lute would stay late, on rare occasions, where it was easier and somehow warmer to sleep in that unused bed than her own room just a few doors down. Their work was often long forgotten and instead, she sips on mediocre microwaved hot chocolate and listens to Vanessa ramble on about how bad she was at math, instead of actually attempting to do said math.

Something about borrowing her shirt, nestled into a medley of pillows and blankets with a mug in hand, surrounded by the sounds of their little building’s atmosphere is so...wonderfully mundane. Though she doesn’t entirely understand, there was no reason to complain.

(Was this comfortable normality perhaps something she missed out on as a child? Being so close to someone you don’t care to keep up an appearance? An oddity, given she’d known Artur for years and such a thing was lost in their life now, but she had only known Vanessa for several weeks and yet felt like she belonged here.)

“I don’t think this is supposed to be a decimal.”

“You did the division wrong.”

“Oh.”

“It’s...Is that a 6 or a 2?”

Vanessa looks closer at her paper, features scrunching. “...I have no idea.”

“We’ll start it over, I’ll write this time though.” Lute says, and leans over to reach across the other’s lap and take her pencil. It’s a bit uncomfortable, Vanessa’s legs against her torso and back muscles stretching, but she’ll make do. The paper crunches a little, placed on a thick duvet and not a hard surface. _But it’ll do._

Vanessa tries to watch her erase barely legible scribbles of numbers and equations, but finds herself staring at Lute instead, a look of intense focus on her face past neat purple hair. Vanessa thinks, stupidly, of asking her if it’s real because Lute’s so strange it wouldn’t be surprising, but spots bits of black near her roots. The math is long forgotten, instead occupied by her admiring Lute’s tiny size and the beauty marks that occasionally adorn her shoulders.

“Oh, Lute, that’s right. I was, uh, wondering if-”

She pauses, hesitant, and Lute contorts to look up at her, clearly uncomfortable and unable to stay like that for too long.

“I know we usually do this on the weekends or I’m busy but you see I was really wondering if-”

Vanessa only sucks in a breath when her phone buzzes against her thigh, nearly choking on it. With a flushed face, she manages the best totally-not-cool-at-all laugh and mutters an excuse, hurriedly rushing with it the bathroom. Shocked (and left tossed to the side of the bed and almost off it completely, considering Lute was practically laying across her), the smaller girl just accepts phone calls require privacy and goes back to writing.

“Hey, Syrene, this is a really bad time-”

Lute realizes she didn’t shut the door behind her, and chides herself for eavesdropping, but can’t stop herself.

“W-wait, no, you’re serious? Shit, is he okay?”

“...Alright, alright. Just, keep me updated, okay? Preferably through texts. And tell mom I’m doing fine, alright? Right, okay, see you later.”

Vanessa steps back in the room, looking a little worn but smiling. “Sorry about that!”

She takes her seat back to Lute, leaning against pillows put on the wall and Lute sitting up beside her. “What were you going to say?”

“Oh! Uh…” Vanessa flushes all over again. “I kind of forgot, that call took me by surprise and everything.”

Everything points to a thinly concealed lie, but Lute had observed and noted that Vanessa was of a much more nervous disposition no matter the situation, so that reaction was normal. She had nothing to lie about, anyhow.

“That’s fine.” Lute replies, curt. “Anyways, I think where you messed up is…”

* * *

  **[7:18 P.M.] You: aaaaaaaaaaaa I tried to ask her and Syrene called im going to die**

**[7:18 P.M.] You: why is th is so difficult wh yhas god forsaken me**

**[7:18 P.M.] A Gay Ginger: did you ask after**

**[7:18 P.M.] You: N**

**[7:18 P.M.] You: No**

**[7:18 P.M.] A Gay Ginger: why tho !!**

**[7:18 P.M.] You: This really hard ok**

**[7:18 P.M.] You: Shes just so cute**

**[7:18 P.M.] You: Im sweating so bad**

**[7:18 P.M.] A Gay Ginger: ok uh, ill make sure to stop by with her tomorrow?**

**[7:18 P.M.] A Gay Ginger: theres not much time left tbh but, its a chance**

**[7:18 P.M.] You: God yeah ok**

**[7:18 P.M.] You: An attempt will be made**

* * *

They’re back at that infuriatingly noisy coffee shop, chaotic and calm all at the same time. Lute _was_ trying to type up an email, but to focus she needs subtle surroundings, else she can't . And Artur’s mumbling a conversation beside her, no real care to whether she’s actually listening or not. She expects him to keep an ear open for their orders, given he ordered them in the first place. Lute still didn’t particularly like coffee, but it wasn’t unpleasant either.

Apparently he had been doing so, because Lute hadn’t noticed he’d gotten up and returned with two cups until one was slid in front of her. She normally only got food, but Artur took it upon himself to order her something sometimes. She wouldn’t say she didn’t appreciate it.

“What is it?”

“A latte.” Artur replies. “Figured you’d like it, it’s sweeter.”

“I have no problem with bitterness.”

He grins. She isn’t really sure why, but it hints smugness. “I know.”

Gently pushing down the lid of her laptop, Lute pulls the lid away and stares into it, much preferring to test its heat with her finger before scorching her lips. Unlike the last drink she’d had here, it was pale in color. It smelled quite good, actually. And in the middle sits a heart, bordered by others in thinner lines in what she assumes is milk or cream, she’s not educated on coffee enough to know.

When she looks up, Artur is smiling with a hint of shock, looking from her to the cup to her.

“Did you do something to it?”

“Lute, oh my god, you didn’t notice?”

She looks to her drink again, and finding nothing unusual, looks back to him. “Is this some kind of trick?”

“Lute…”

“What?”

“She’s hitting on you.”

No response. The words don’t make sense, not at first. _By ‘her’, she assumes Vanessa, given she often made their drinks as per Artur’s choice and was a mutual friend of theirs. ‘Flirting’ is a term referring to acts meant to express romantic attraction towards other people, though often comedic in nature. But often more literal is ‘hitting on’ which is subjectively flirting but more serious in intent, meaning…_

“Lute?”

Face turning embarrassingly hot, Lute’s hand shakes despite its grip. “H-how do you know that?”

“Because Van never makes those?” He leans his head into his hand. “Too much effort, too little pay, I guess.”

“That...You’re misunderstanding, I’m sure. Why would she- she wouldn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t she be?”

“!! Wha-- I don’t, I’m not against...I-I don’t know! This is…”

“Oh, don’t look, she’s coming this way.”

She knows he’s joking, though she doesn’t appreciate it. But then she's horrified to find he was right. So stuck on what she seriously considered a possibility that transpired over only seconds, she doesn’t notice Vanessa approaching. Being so out of her zone must be hindering her observation skills, to the point of being so low as to when she’s in her room. Or was this place just becoming comfortable to her? She doubts it.

“Good, you’re here!” Instead of sitting, she leans a bit on the table, hands gripping the rounded edge. Intimidating, if not jarring. But not so bad, because she’s smiling, and Lute doesn’t have to tilt her head up so much. “I remembered what I wanted to ask yesterday!”

“O-Oh?” Swallowing hard, because she knows Artur just wants a rise out of her, Lute dedicates about 98% of her concentration on keeping her composure. “What is it?”

“Well, um,” ah, back to normal Vanessa. Lute relaxes, just a little. “Remember I talk about horseback riding all the time? Me and, um, Syrene are going to go this weekend and- you said you’ve never been, there, doing that, so- want to come with?”

Lute couldn’t say. Yes, she’d never been. And given her normal hobbies, seemed something far out of her interest. But she was fond of experiencing things first-hand, and supposed it was worth a shot. Being with Vanessa is just a bonus.Only a small fraction of her decision, _obviously_.

“Yes, I think it sounds fun.”

“Really?! Great! Okay, I’ll text you details later, alright? I have to go back to work before they yell at me.”

“...Isn’t it your break?”

Vanessa stops in the middle of turning around, and a sheepish smile forms between flushed cheeks. “I’m, uh, doing overtime. You know how it is. Money. Stuff.”

She leaves quickly, and Lute deciding that money, and stuff, is indeed important, leaves her to it.

“Told you.” Artur mumbles, and Lute elbows him with no subtly and only a little bit of anxiety. She wasn't flirting, Artur was just messing with her and Vanessa coincidentally came by at that time, asking her on a totally platonic outing. Because that's what friends do. That's a normal thing people do. That had to be it.

* * *

  **[6:34 A.M.] You: Oh my god I did it I asked her out**

**[6:34 A.M.] You: Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god**

**[6:34 A.M.] A Gay Ginger: i told you the latte thing would work !!!**  

**[6:34 A.M.] A Gay Ginger: did you actually go back to work**

**[6:34 A.M.] You: No Im hiding in the bathroom and screaming**

**[6:34 A.M.] You: Im so gay Artur you have no idea how much Im frreaking out right now**

**[6:34 A.M.] A Gay Ginger: i hope you dont get this nervous on the actual date lmao**

Hands trembling just a little, Vanessa presses her phone to her chest with both hands and a heavy, shaky sigh.

**[6:34 A.M.] You: I hope so too**


	6. Nostalgia

Lute has reasons to suspect Artur has ulterior motives for his teasing, because he had way too much fun dressing her up for her and Vanessa’s...outing. It was kind of pathetic, but Lute’s grandmother had almost always shopped for her and chose her outfits. If she hadn’t, Lute would have been content with wearing whatever was comfiest and clean, the same outfit everyday. It was only until high school, where she learned impressions mattered, that she put any care into it. But even then, just barely, keeping those dark colors that matched no matter what and often switching jeans for a pencil skirt. And she had to be more aware nowadays anyways, given only years ago she realized why certain materials seemingly drove her insane.

 

She had to remind Artur the outfit has to be practical, given she’d presumably be on a horse’s back most of their afternoon. He complained, but settled for a ruffled, shoulder-exposing white blouse and jean shorts. Slightly big on her, because they’re _his_ (he was skinnier than her, but so much... _taller_ ), but she'd make do in fear of him putting her in something worse.

 

If she had her way, she’d default to a comfortable combo of a skirt and button up. But she supposed dressing up for something like this appropriate, not that she was trying to impress Vanessa or anything.

* * *

“You’re here!” It’s certainly a spot Lute has never seen before. The city halts to a stop and grows into an open length of fields, pine trees and mountains silhouetted in the distance. The building isn’t hidden at all, adorning a large sign with art of a horse on its back legs.  Between that and the large track behind it, there’s no doubt it’s the right place.

Vanessa meets her with a light jog at the entrance, and Lute offers a small smile. Vanessa is far more properly dressed with a jersey and jeans. If it wasn’t clear already, Vanessa was into sports, Lute had learned. Was horseback riding considered a sport?

"Did I keep you waiting?"

"Not at all!" Vanessa takes her hand suddenly, and every cell in Lute's body jumps in response. "I have someone I'd like you to meet!"

Lute is lead through the building and into the openness behind it, dragged past racing tracks towards stables. Stepping inside, Lute is immediately startled by the sounds and faces of several of the giant creatures, but resists the urge to shy away. Vanessa walks towards the end, paying no mind to the other horses, and puts her arms out in front of a certain stall. "Surprise! My princess herself, Titania!"

The horse, much like Vanessa herself, is massive. She supposes it made sense, that a normal horse maybe couldn't be ridden with Vanessa's height. Or maybe not, maybe that was a normal size. Lute wouldn't claim to have any knowledge on horses. She intends on changing that today.

Emphasis on "intends", because Lute freezes up at the sight of it. She knew horses were big, of course, but to be in the presence of one...It turns its head to see her better, and it's eyeball is so huge. Lute had tiny hands, and they only barely were bigger than it. And it's teeth...A weirdly beautiful, but extremely terrifying creature.

"Does she like carrots?"

"I think so, she's not too picky with food, just people."

Picky with people? That wasn't assuring. Artur was the one who had a natural charm with animals, not her. Regardless, Lute goes through her purse and pulls out a small bag of baby carrots.

"Oh, wow, you brought some?"

"I wanted to know for myself."

"Well, alright! Look, Titania, Lute brought you a gift!"

Lute takes a handful and intends to hand to her, but Vanessa takes her wrist in a gentle hold and almost drops them. "It's okay, you can feed her yourself!"

She tries to hide the hairs sticking up on her limbs. She just wanted to see if that horses actually liked carrots, not put her hand near it's giant, powerful maw. But not one to deny a challenge, Lute stands on her tiptoes and reaches over the stable door, near Titania's head.

Her large snout sniffs the offering, before taking it in her mouth. Her hand, not the carrots, that is. The only thing keeping Lute in place is that her hand could easily be severed by its teeth should she flinch. Her eyes widen despite her efforts.

"Isn't she sweet?" Titania releases her, and Lute pulls her hand back, saliva dripping from it and down her wrist. How much trauma must her hands suffer at the...well, _hand_ of her experiments? "I know it's a little gross though, there's hand sanitizer right there."

Lute looks to her side and takes a liberal pile of it from the pump, drying with the paper towels that hung beside it.

"Can't give her much more though, else she won't wanna move. Now c'mon, let's get you geared up!"

"...Geared up?"

"Just a helmet, not as serious as it sounds. It's not like we're going to a show or something."

"You do shows?" Lute asks as Vanessa frees Titania, leading her out of the stable.

"Gods, no." Vanessa giggles. "This is just a hobby of mine, I don't think I could do it...Syrene always wanted to, though. She's a little more skilled than me, and her horse is just a bit stronger."

Titania makes a sound suspiciously like a grumble and pushes Vanessa lightly with her head, who only laughs more. "No offense, Titania."

Lute's only mildly unsettled.

They're soon at the large track she saw earlier, and standing by it is Syrene, in clothes she'd much more expect of a horseback rider. But Vanessa being not as dressed up makes her feel a little less out of place. "Oh, hello you two!..And lute!"

"Syrene..." Vanessa groans. Was there a joke? "You two have met, right?"

"Mhm!" Syrene gives her hand out to shake nonetheless, and Lute returns the gesture. "And even if I didn't, Vanessa talks an awful lot about you, you know!"

Vanessa goes a brilliant shade of scarlet, reply she had tried to form coming out a flustered squawk. "D-don't joke like that!"

Something is seriously going over her head, Lute realizes. She rather hated being the only one out on a joke, but it was to be expected, she was aware her humor was dry.

"Anyways, ready to go?"

Syrene's horse is much similar to Vanessa's, only larger and more muscular. Vanessa joked that she spoils it less, though Titania was in no way out of shape. That became clear enough as Lute is...lifted onto the horse (it doesn't go unnoticed that of course, Vanessa isn't out of shape either. Lute weighed hardly anything, but she lifted her up without breaking a sweat and her hands are firm and she's a little speechless for a few moments) and she can feel the muscles shifting under its hide.

Lute tenses, unsure of what to do with her hands and if she should grab the reins or-- Vanessa gets on just in front of her, swinging her leg over Titania's saddle with one swift motion, skilled ease. Of course she wouldn't be riding the horse herself, Lute realizes with a small flush.

"Have you ever ridden a horse before?" Syrene asks as the pair start with a trot. It takes Lute some seconds to respond, trying to get used to the weird bouncing sort of motion her insides feel like they're doing.

"I have now."

It earns a loud laugh from the woman. "Not until you're struggling to hold on, you haven't!"

"Syrene..." Vanessa croaks with lighthearted exasperation, Syrene sending a whip of wind as she speeds past them, raising dust from the track as she does. "Hey!" It takes all of Vanessa's control not to give chase, given Lute was only lightly gripping her shirt at the waist. She settles for sticking her tongue out at her sister, though she's too far to possibly see it. "You okay with speeding up?"

 _No._ "Of course."

Titania's pace quickens, though only by a little. Ah, this was tolerable. But it's nothing compared to Syrene, who was already half way across the giant plot of land, leaned forward against the wind. It's only when Lute completely adjusts that she rushes past them again, and Vanessa mutters a "hold tight."

And Titania takes off, powerful legs pulling them against the air. How the world looks when going this fast, Lute doesn't know, as she instinctively winds her arms around Vanessa's torso and presses her head against her back, eyes slammed shut. Slightly painful, as it pushes her helmet against her skull. She has a feeling they might not actually being going all _that_ fast, as Vanessa is still legions behind her sibling. But it certainly felt like it, to Lute who was so short that it was necessary to be wary of heights, and has probably not had her feet so high off the ground at alarming speeds like this before.

When it's over, she's overwhelmed with dizziness. She only starts to feel her senses return when Syrene is laughing, claiming she was glad to see them but had already spent the afternoon here and has errands to run. "I'll leave you two alone now!" She says with a wave, and Lute's brain is too busy regaining circulation to hear Vanessa's embarrassed response. Vanessa leans against Titania's neck, catching her breath. It was strange that this had that effect, Lute thinks, when they weren't necessarily exercising. It was the horse that did the work, and it bothers her that she can feel it breathing against her skin.

"...Whew!" Vanessa sits back up, slipping her helmet off. She turns around a bit to look at Lute, who stares wearily back. Vanessa is smiling wider than she's seen in awhile, with flyaway bangs sticking to her forehead and her shirt sweat-stuck to her back. The sunlight hit the back of her head and made her green hair that much brighter, ran along her arm as she wiped sweat from her face.

...Was it getting hotter out? That would explain the sweat and flush that takes Lute's face and shoulders.

“S-sorry...I um, I’m used to going really fast.” Vanessa’s smile falters, and Lute immediately wants to see it back, scared she made it seem like she was unpleased. “Are you okay?”

“It was fun.” Lute says, not sure if she means it or not. “I just...don’t want to vomit.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, don’t want that.”

Titania shakes her head and hair free of the dust that’d risen off the tracks. Vanessa’s lips purse, but she takes up a small smile yet again. “...Hey, I have an idea. We won’t be racing like before, don’t worry.”

Before Lute can question it, the horse moves again. Only this time, it’s a slow, casual trot. Curiously, they deviate from the tracks and past the building. However, she finds no energy in her to question it, letting Vanessa whisk her away somewhere new, Lute just content holding lightly onto her waist. The grass turns a light, more vibrant yellowish color as they go, and in between some of the willow trees like those Lute saw in the park near the college, is a beaten dirt path.

Despite how sordid it may sound, vaguely like something in an old novel she read probably years ago, it was anything but. As unlike those trees she knew so well, these were brighter, more alive. And she lets her eyes lazily linger to dangling purple-pink flowers as they go.

* * *

 “We’re technically not supposed to be back here, even if Titania’s my horse and I can do what I want. But...it’s quieter, I think you’ll like it.”

Nodding, the fabric of Vanessa’s shirt moves with her head...When had she started resting against Vanessa's back?

Soon enough, the narrow path that the trees formed becomes wider and she has to move her head to see them. When she pulls her head up, blinking a little, they’re circled around them. Within the wide area they allowed, sat a large pond. Natural, if the long grass and sounds of wildlife were any hint.

Vanessa dismounts, offering a hand to Lute. She takes it, allowing herself to be pulled down. The water near them is murky and green, insects skidding along the surface. Birds are chirping, hidden among the leaves.

“Me and Syrene used to go here a lot...I still do when I can. It takes a lot of stress off, ya know?”

Vanessa lets her legs buckle beneath her and sits in the midst of the grass, Lute doing the same more gentle behind her. Lute admits, nature didn’t appeal to her so much as did as a kid.

“I haven’t really been outside like this in a long time. In nature.” She isn’t sure what prompts her to share it, but sure enough, the dense woods around them and the smell of grass and sunlight filtering through the leaves is nostalgic. Wasn’t there a Hoshidan word for that phenomenon?... _Komorebi_. She doesn’t need to search her mind as memories of her childhood with Artur come flooding back. “Not since I lived in Renais.”

“Really…?” Vanessa asks, sounding genuinely stunned. Lute suspects she does this more than she lets on. “How long ago was that?”

Lute closes her eyes to think. She was 22 now, and can last remember doing something like that when she was...11?

“E...Eleven years.”

“I-I see…” Vanessa looks towards the shimmering water, pulling her knees to her chin. “...You said you grew up with Artur, huh?”

“Yes.” Lute isn’t sure why Vanessa is so curious, but quickly realizes that they had shared so many parts of her past...But when had Lute ever talked about her own?

In truth, she wasn’t used it. Because there was few she was closer to than Artur, who already knew, who was there when it all happened. She didn’t make an effort to hide it or anything, she just never thought to bring it up. There was never a reason to.

“I’ve known him since I was seven actually.”

“Really?! That’s so long! Man, that’s...what, second grade? That’s nuts! I haven’t talked to or even seen anyone I knew from elementary school...How’d you meet?”

Lute inhales under her breath. That was actually a question that came up more than she’d like, because she always had to lie on the spot. At least, it was a lie she was used to telling. “We were put on a group project, and he was...one of the few kids who could tolerate me. It’s a rather mundane story, actually.”

 

( _In reality, their meeting had been equally coincidental, but under much worse circumstances. It was known that Artur, and she herself, were outcasts of their own kind. Lute, because she was “gifted” and further ahead than other students. But was quiet, and apparently creeped the other kids out. People were kind to Artur, though he was just as lonely, it turned out. She didn’t fail to observe that it was only girls who did so, oddly._

_Him being bullied was something of a common occurrence, apparently he wasn’t too much like the other boys and it showed. Once when she was alone in a room with a teacher, staying after to take notes, he’d come in, in tears, telling it all to her. She vividly recalls the teacher being sympathetic, but ultimately saying “man up”, and he’d left crying._

_The second time, it was the first and last time his harassment had become physical. Lute was descending a rarely used staircase towards the doors to the playground. There was loud talking, almost like yelling. But that was typical in the hallways. What wasn’t typical was sobbing, and scared wails. Warily, she turned to look at the empty underside of the staircase. Sure enough, Artur had this back against the wall, as far in the corner as he could go. His typical assailants standing above him, mocking him for his weakness._

_The seconds after are a bit of a blur, but she remembers kicking one of them behind the knee, causing him to fall. And another grabbed her shirt, pulling her close. On instinct, she’d punched him. She wasn’t active nor strong, but the close distance gave enough force to send him back. She remembers seeing drops of blood on her hand and trailing from the boy’s nose. They left after that, screaming words inappropriate for their young age._

_Artur still sat in the corner, face hidden by his hands and trembling. She got close, a question on her lips, but yelped when he gripped her and pulled her close. Suddenly she was on her knees on the linoleum floor, Artur’s face against her, shirt bunched in his fists, still weeping. From up close, she could see a growing bruise near his eye. So he’d been hit...but only once. For some reason, the fact relieved her._

_They sit like that for minutes until the lunch bell rang, Artur’s head instead resting on her lap until his tears ceased. Her hand had started playing with his hair at some point, in an awkward attempt to console him. But it was hard to resist once he stopped, it was really soft…_

_She escorted him to the nurse shortly thereafter, giving up her lunch time to make sure the sniffling boy arrived safely. She also got suspended for 3 days, but didn’t really mind. Lute returned expecting a work packet from the teacher, but it was Artur handing it to her instead, all smiles and freckles. The black eye was fading, and she took it gratefully, sitting at an empty desk. He sat beside her, staring at her papers until she stared back. “D-do you want to copy my notes?”_

_“...Sure.” At one point he gave her half of his apple, and nothing sealed a second grade friendship like sharing snacks. After that day, he followed her like a lost puppy. Bullies left him alone, as long as she was there. And he didn’t mind her strangeness, her bluntness. She grew comfortable with him, more comfortable than she had with anyone but her own grandmother. For the first time, Lute had a friend._ )

Vanessa lets out a thoughtful hum, Lute drawing circles in the dirt. This place, despite never having been here, brought up plenty of memories. She remembers playing in the woods near her home with Artur, climbing trees, scaring him with frogs or spiders she found unintentionally, making crowns out of dandelions and tiny white flowers…

“Tolerate you…? What do you mean?”

“I think I was intimidating.” Lute knew she was, and looking back on it, she wondered why Artur became her friend. Sure, she’d helped him that day. But this was the boy who flinched if anyone even slightly raised their voice. Hell, he still does, not that she’d ever yelled at him…

Except--

 

( _It was the first year of middle school when they’d stopped their ways of frolicking in the woods and staying up past bedtimes. It was an entirely different experience, more serious, more adult. That didn’t mean they didn’t still have fun, Artur pulled her outside to the icecream stand nearby or elsewhere far too often._

_But while he suddenly flourished, Lute hadn’t managed to adjust at all. Now that she’s older, she knows that it was her upbringing that brought her into such a situation. Her whole life, she was the gifted kid, the prodigy. She never had to work, never have to worry, because she already knew everything. But those gifts “gifted” her extremely difficult classes. And she’d never learned how to properly study or take notes. She had an amazing memory but it had suddenly disappeared under the weight of her new workload._

_It was ironic (her entire life was, wasn’t it?) that Artur found her almost as she found him, in a deserted part of the school on the floor. But she didn’t cry, she couldn’t. She was just too angry. Her papers for her english class lay scattered on the floor around her, where she’d dropped the giant binder she kept all her work in._

_“Lute, a B is a really good grade…”_

_It was, but it wasn’t good enough. Her whole life had been As and A+s, bonus points, extra credit. She couldn’t allow it, wouldn’t allow it. And words she didn’t mean came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop it._

**_“Maybe for an underachiever like you!!”_ **

_She wants to cover her mouth, stumble an apology. But she just stops, freezing. She expects Artur to get angry, to look any kind of upset. She knows he had self image problems. He trusted her enough to tell her. He trusted her. He must be furious, he’ll hopefully leave her there--_

_But he didn’t, he just looked at her with that patient and understanding look he always had. It somehow angered her more. He should be yelling at her! Telling her how cruel she just was! Not picking up her papers from the floor, tapping them into a neat pile and sitting beside her. She’d tucked her head into her knees then, not even noticing him swinging an arm around her shoulder. They stayed like that until the 4th period bell rang, though she didn’t shed a tear.)_

 

It was an awful memory she didn’t think of often, and it guilted her when it returned...Had she always been that way? How did Artur stand her? How was he so kind to her?...Why was he still so kind to her?

...Why was Artur her friend?

And then she looks to Vanessa, awaiting an answer.

...Why was Vanessa her friend, for that matter?

 


	7. Distraught

The question persisted even as they sat and chatted away, even after they left and walked busy streets, trying to decide on a place to eat. Lute is aware she shouldn’t think about it too much, that friendship is a concept that should be taken in stride. She wants-- _is_ friends with Artur, and Vanessa, too. She doesn’t doubt that, because she enjoys being around them.

She wonders why they feel the same though. She doubted for a moment if Vanessa even did, but why would she invite someone like Lute out if she didn’t?  Yet it still ate away at her. Vanessa has done nothing but help her, even if they were only minor inconveniences. Was it only because she helped her with academics? Lute didn’t blame her then, because she offered it in the first place. Not that she had minded.

Yet, here she was. And this whole time since they’ve left from that grassy openness, Vanessa hasn’t let go of her hand. Lute makes no move to stop her, confused to admit she enjoys it.

“I’m gonna look up what’s around us, I haven’t really explored this part of town before.”

Lute nods and waits patiently, leaning against the wall of some clothing store until Lute hears the ding that followed a new text. Vanessa gasps, phone hitting the pavement. Lute bends to get it before questioning it, pleased to see the screen miraculously unshattered. But when she looks up, Vanessa is frozen with a hand over her mouth. Confused, she stares at her. When she looks again, the preview on her lock screen tells it all.

The uber there is a quiet and tense drive as a result, Vannesa only muttering a stumbled apology and nothing else. Lute doesn’t push, instead waiting until the hospital comes into view to speak.

Vanessa runs out without paying, though she thankfully had handed Lute the money before she did. By the time she’s through the front doors as well, Vanessa is nowhere to be seen.

Lute goes up to the desk, glad Vanessa had once told her her father’s name in passing. The nurse asks her relation, and she blanks. She could just wait out here, but something was nagging at her that she to follow. But her lying that she was family would never be believed, she looked nothing like her or Syrene. Lute swallows, only thinking of one other option. It probably wasn’t a good one.

“I’m her girlfriend.”

Oh well, it’s not as though she had to say the same thing to Vanessa’s family. It’s scary, meeting them, especially under...these circumstances. But Vanessa...considers her a friend. She has to do this.

The nurse seems stunned for a moment, before quickly replacing it with a smile and a gentle “right this way”.

Lute never liked hospitals. She liked neat, tidy, minimalistic places. But there was something to sterile and vacant about it, even if the halls were busy with wheelchairs, staff, and visitors. They reach a room labeled “202”, and Lute reluctantly welcomes herself in.

She could have prepared herself for the scene inside it, but hadn’t. A man Lute only recognized from photos lay seemingly asleep in a hospital bed. Beside it, Syrene and a thin, similar looking woman, with a sobbing Vanessa in her arms. Her mother, she recognizes, also only spoken of in their normal late night conversations and photographs.

Syrene must have come from work, still in a blazer and skirt. She’s the first to notice Lute entering, and her eyes are red rimmed and swollen, but she offers a thin smile nonetheless. She seems to move to greet her, but--

“You’ve another visitor.”

The other two look to her, and Lute opens her mouth to speak, to justify her presence, but the nurse does it for her.

She didn’t think this would happen.

“This is your daughter’s girlfriend, correct?”

All the sad eyes become wide ones, even Lute’s own.

_Shit._

* * *

 

Lute had to stand outside while they did...whatever they did with dead people in hospitals, she didn’t know herself. She saw nuns, and wondered if Vanessa’s family was religious, but wanders off soon after. Not too far, only to the seats and vending machine towards the end. Her limbs feel weird and heavy.

The first thing she can think to do is call Artur, internally agape at the fact it was 4 p.m. Time flowed so differently within those white, artificial walls. When he answers, there’s the faint sound of people and music in the background. Right, he must be out with his friends. He does it every weekend now.

“Oh my god, it...it happened?” It’s almost as if Artur can hear her nod. “I knew he was sick, but...damn. She said he’d been getting better.”

“I...don’t know what to do.” Lute mutters, feeling truly helpless. She hated that feeling more than anything else, helplessness. The thought of trying her hardest but still coming up too short was torturous.

“Um...I’m not sure--”

“Artur, you’ve had to do this before, haven’t you?” Lute interrupts him. There’s a slight bit of silence, Lute’s hand nervously gripping the hem of her shorts. “Your...your friend's mother passed.”

“Uh...well, it was a bit of an um, different situation. And everyone reacts differently, you know?”

“I just...I just…” Lute doesn’t realize her breath is loud in the microphone. “I just want to help her.”

“...Look, just, ask her what she wants? Maybe wait a bit and...if she wants to be alone, leave her be. I’m never seen Van that distraught, I don’t know myself.”

“A-alright.” Lute feels bad for hanging up without a goodbye, her trembling finger hitting the button prematurely. When she gets up, they’re filing out of the room. Lute puts all her confidence into approaching her, but never gets to, Vanessa meeting her just to pick her up and into a hug, answering it before she could ask. She mumbles something about a ride home between tears, and Lute tries not to seem scared, for Vanessa's sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on Syrene and Vanessa's supports, I should clarify. Their father doesn't die in canon but...AU ;)


	8. Mistake

The campus was about 20 minutes away. But that car ride felt it like lasted centuries.

It’d started to rain at some point while they were in there, now assaulting the car’s windows and sloshing under the tires. Vanessa’s mother was driving, eerily silent. The radio was off. Next to her, Syrene was in the passenger seat, legs crossed and eyes set out the window. Lute herself was in the backseat, behind the mother. Next to her, Vanessa sat, equally as quiet. You could cut the air with a knife.

“You haven’t introduced yourself.”

“Oh, yes, ah...” This should be easy, because she wasn’t lying, but she’s tongue-tied nonetheless. “My name is Lute, I’m a sophomore. I’m majoring in actuarial science, and minoring in computer science and mathematics.”

“A math person. Compliments you well, Vanessa.”

Vanessa just nods, looking ghastly. Her eyes haven’t left the floor. Lute had no idea if that was supposed to be humorous, as it came out empty of any apparent amusement.

“So.” Mother (Lute thinks now is a bad time to ask for her name) starts. “How long has this...relationship been going on?”

Lute’s heart rate increases, she was never good at lying. Admitting she was lying about being Vanessa’s girlfriend was probably the absolute worst thing she could right now. She’d never spoken to Vanessa’s parents...er, parent, before. That wouldn’t be a good introduction at all.

Not that what they were doing now was any better. Until they were out of this...situation, she would pretend to be her partner. And Vanessa, as dissociative as she seemed right now, seemed to have silently agreed on her plan.

“Two months.” Syrene supplies. She was covering them, looking outwardly calm but bouncing her leg intensely, nervous.

“Y-yes, two months.” Vanessa replies, her voice wavering. She slides a hand over to gently place over Lute’s, and she isn’t sure what it means. Whether Van was seeking out comfort, or trying to give believability to their act, she doesn’t know. She doesn’t move from the touch.

“And I’m only hearing about this now.”

“Yes…” Vanessa swallows thickly, tears brim at her eyes again. Lute has to fix this, quickly.

“I apologize we had to meet under these circumstances, Miss…” She never did learn Vanessa’s last name...She just settles on just ‘Miss’. “We’re both very busy with school.”

“She’s right. Midterms are right around the corner. You two have been losing so much sleep.”

Lute silently thanked whatever gods exist that Syrene was here. Whether or not they were fooling her mother remained unclear, hanging over all three of them. But hopefully, Syrene’s false info would be more convincing.

“I see.”

Mother doesn’t seem particularly upset, but that was only because she was creepily devoid of emotion. Lute didn’t yet have to experience...this. She never knew her parents. And her grandmother was still alive and well, but had only ever talked to her about love when she was very little, teasing her about the ginger haired boy she brought home sometimes. Except Artur stayed forever and ended up becoming a brother more than anything. Lute had considered once she wouldn't care about something like gender, she never even considered ever having a relationship in the first place. And she probably never would. This couldn’t be easy, introducing a partner to your parent, especially in a situation like _this_ , but...

“I wasn’t aware you were into…” A pause. “... _other_ _women_ , Vanessa.”

Shit. Shit. Fuck.

If Lute had realized her hasty excuse would lead to forcing Vanessa to out herself, or at least pretend to, she wouldn’t have done it. Fuck. Shit. Even in the moment, thinking about how this must feel for her...Lute had tried to help, but in the end, feels like she betrayed her. She was almost tearing up, realizing what a failure she was. She was good at everything, everything except people, except relationships.

If she hadn’t pushed forward to see Van in the hospital room out of her want to do what a “good friend” would do, if she had just waited in the lobby…

She was an awful friend.

Unable to read the other’s thoughts, Vanessa’s hand curls around Lute’s so tight, her nails are pressing into the smaller girl’s bones. It’s taking all her power to not to burst into tears, it looks like.

“I...I wasn’t...w-wasn’t aware either. Until, um, um, until we met.”

She can see Syrene’s foot bounce faster, fingers toying with the end of her skirt. How painful must this be for her? Seeing her sister suffer like this? How much more does this hurt for her than Lute and Vanessa combined?

...Was Syrene also…?

But most of all, how the fuck could their mother be so curt and blunt, when Lute could practically hear the mental breakdown on Vanessa’s voice? She was actually getting angry, though she had enough hesitation and self control to not express as much.

The day had turned cold, autumn bringing night faster than before. But the interior of the car suddenly felt too hot, it was suffocating. If she were more impulsive, Lute might’ve dared to open the window, letting the rain hit her. She looks out said window, filled with surprise and relief to see a street sign she recognizes through the haze of downpour.

The next few minutes manage to melt into each other, completely silent, and they’re exiting the aged minivan onto the street. Now that she was out of it, it’s as if the scene had only lasted seconds.

And they must have looked like lunatics, standing there in the rain, watching the car disappear into the fog. None of them wanted to move, not at first, blankly content with getting soaked to the bone.

“Vanessa…” Syrene is the first to move, pulling her younger sister into a hug. She hugs back, burying her face into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Lute stands by politely, not daring to interfere with their moment. Syrene gives her the same tired, faint smile she did back in the hospital room.

She doesn’t want to assume, not feeling worthy of it, but something tells her that look meant _take care of her_.

“Go dry off, you two. I...have to make some calls.”

Vanessa lets go of her reluctantly, nodding slowly and weakly shielding herself from the rain. Lute follows behind, not sure if that’s what she wants. But being in the same dorm building, she had little other choice.

Narrowly dodging the water dripping rapidly off the edge of the veranda, Vanessa stops short of unlocking the door, key still in the lock. “Lute?”

“Yes…?”

“You don’t have to, but...Could you stay?”

Lute’s stunned. Vanessa...still wanted her around after that?

“O...Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lesson learned: if you're me and you say you're going to update soon, you're probably not updating soon. If I ever write another multi chapter fic, rest assured I'll write more than one chapter at a time and post them in advance
> 
>  
> 
> (Also. This fic has been up for how many months and Im only now realizing I posted this on 4/20? It was doomed from the start)


End file.
